


Chicks dig that

by Miss_Kitten



Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape (nothing graphic), F/M, Fluff, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Kitten/pseuds/Miss_Kitten
Summary: Reader is attacked in an alley; Wade shows up and saves her, but says a rude comment, which makes reader mad. He tries to apologize, but to no avail, until he comes without his suit. Reader invites his for a beer and they talk, in the end finding a friend in one another.





	

A grip on a strand of your bag tightens as you round the corner and walk into a narrow dark alley. You hate that part of your work-home journey but it’s the fastest one and you don’t feel like adding ten minutes of walking to avoid it.

It always makes you uneasy and anxious. Not once have you been attacked but nevertheless, a young woman going through a dark alley is a tempting target for whatever perverts are there. And you know there are few; this morning you’ve read an article about a robber who works in your area and you hope you won’t bump into him this evening.

You have a simple wish – get home without any complications. Simple and achievable, right?

Well, not exactly. It seems that you ran out of your luck and said robber decided to wait in that particular alley. You curse under your nose, your sweaty palm sliding in the pocket of your jacket to hold a pepper gas.

“Uh-uh, don’t play with me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and give me your bag and I’ll consider letting you go,” a man, clad in black clothes with a hoodie pushed onto his face and a balaclava to cover it, steps in front of you, seemingly from nowhere. As if he just appeared out of thin air.

“I don’t have any money,” you gulp and say, wishing that your voice sounded unshaken and stronger. It resembles more of a frightened whimper and you hate yourself for that.

An adrenaline courses into your blood and through your veins; you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, your body tenses.

The robber eyes your figure and clicks his tongue.

“Now, I’ll be the judge of that. Your bag, darlin’,” he reaches out his hand, nonchalantly pushing unzipped front of his leather jacket aside to give you a peek of a pistol tugged onto his belt.

Fuck.

You ponder your options. One – you can be a good girl and give him your bag but there’s your salary inside it and you won’t have a penny afterwards. Two – you don’t give your bag, get shot, he’ll take it himself and you’ll lose your money and possibly your life.

You’re screwed regardless the decision you’ll make.

The man takes a step towards you, impatient and angry with your stalling.

“Give me that damn bag, you bitch!”

“Well, fuck you!” you say back without thinking about it and the robber growls, offended and jumps to you, pushing you onto the brick wall.

Your back hit it and you feel dizzy for a moment. Then, the man is on you, gripping at your throat as he snatches the bag with a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

“Uh, no, fuck you, darlin’. Whatcha sayin’, huh? Nothin’? Though so,” he lets out an ugly laugh and your blood freezes. You’ve angered him, what if he decides to harm you apart from taking your bag?

“You took me for a fool, didn’t you?” he continues as he places your bag on the ground between his legs, his free hand now moving over your torso. You feel sick, you’d vomit if he didn’t hold you by your neck.

“Motherfucker!” suddenly, a voice calls and the attacker jerks his head in its direction. Your vision is blurry, you can’t quite make out the voice owner’s figure, you only see that he’s wearing a red suit, covering even his face.

“Who the hell are you?” your attacker spats and the red-clothed guy laughs loudly, surprising you.

“I’m your undoing, you piece of shit. Now, get your hands off that lady or I’m gonna cut off your dick.”

“Nah, I don’t think so, man. Maybe you wanna join? I’m sure that darling here doesn’t mind whether she’s fucked-“

He doesn’t get to finish as the guy in a red suit punches him in the head, successfully sending him onto the ground. Your attacker growls and spits, but red-clad guy doesn’t stop there.

He notices a gun under robber’s belt and jumps onto him, pinning him to the ground. The robber fidgets, trying to free himself from the grip but to no avail.

And you, you watch it with wide opened eyes, from your knees, which you collapsed onto as you were finally freed from attacker’s grasp. You hold onto your throat, inhaling deeply as you try to even out your breathing and calm yourself. Your lungs are on fire. Your whole body screams for you to run but you can’t move.

A sound of a gun rings through the air and you gasp seeing that your robber has just been shot. The red-suited dude lets out a disappointed whine.

“I really wanted to cut off his dick, but that fucker wouldn’t let me. Not very nice. You okay?”

“No.”

“Want me to help you?”

“Don’t touch me!” you exclaim, jumping onto your feet when he approaches you. You take few steps back, wanting to be as far away from what has just happened as you can.

“Oh, so you don’t like it rough after all?” he asks in an overly cheerful tone and, before you can think twice, you slap him and run away.

Dammit, how did everything go to shit so fast?

_____

“I don’t get it, Weasel, I’m being a sweetheart and she always shuts the door in my face,” Wade complains as he downs another shot of tequila. His friend puckers his lips and then nods.

“I don’t think that flowers or stuffed bear can make her feel better. She was almost raped.”

“I know, but I saved her!”

“Wade, what did you say before she ran away?”

“That she might have enjoyed being treated like a naughty girl…?”

“Boom!” Weasel pats the bar with an all-knowing look. “Girl gets robbed, then almost raped and you suggest she likes it. Of course, she would welcome you with open arms!”

“But I don’t even get a chance to apologize!”

“Can you blame her?!”

“No, but how can I say sorry when she slams the door every time I open my mouth?”

“Do you wear your suit when you go to her?”

“Yeah, but what does it have to do with anything?”

“You’re so fucking dumb,” Weasel shakes his head as Wade knits his brows, visibly struggling to understand.

“You were in your suit when she was attacked. She associates you in your suit with that rather traumatic experience in the alley. I’m gonna pass over what you told her and the fact that you must’ve followed her considering that you know where she lives-“

“I did not! She left her bag there and I read the address on her ID.”

“Did you at least return the bag?”

“Yeah, the same night. I left it on the doormat.”

“At least there’s that…”

“But she doesn’t want candy or teddy bear. Why, Weasel, why?”

“’Cause you’re a fucking pervert in a red suit who shot that robber in front of her.”

Wade clenches his chest and looks at his friend with a mock-offended expression.

“I am not a pervert!”

“Then go to her without your suit.”

“But I’m ugly, didn’t you notice?”

“But you won’t be in your suit. You’ll be a different guy. Kinda.”

“I never tell you this, but you are a genius, Weasel,” Wade leans over the bar and plants a wet kiss on his friend’s cheek, making Weasel’s face twist with disgust.

“Get the fuck out, Wade.”

“On my way!”

_______

You clutch a pillow to your chest as you look at the screen. You turned on a comedy to cheer yourself up but it was utterly boring and very not funny.

Frowning, you press pause and get out of your bed. You haven’t left your flat in four days, since the evening you were attacked. You called your boss and told him you’re down with a nasty flue and given that you were crying before the call, she believed you. So, you were given a week off, fortunately.

You are now going to walk a longer distance to your job, but at least you’ll avoid that damn alley. And probably the guy in red suit, but that’s not for certain.

He knows where you live. He’s been here every day, and you’re pretty sure he was the one who brought you your bag. That was sweet of him, but coming to your place day after day, with a bouquet or a teddy bear is uncalled for. You don’t want it. You want to forget and move on, but he doesn’t seem to understand, apparently convinced that he should stalk you and torment you with presence.

You start to feel like an animal, cornered and unable to escape.

You go to the kitchen, about to make yourself a chamomile tea. Maybe it will help you settle down and you’ll be able to fall asleep easily.

You put a kettle on, start the electric cooker and take out your favorite mug from the drawer. And that’s when you hear a knocking.

Instantly, your mind turns on ‘escape!’ mode and your heart skyrockets. Gripping the mug tightly, you quietly and slowly come to the door and look through a peep-hole. There’s a tall man with a cap on his head standing but you can’t see his face.

With a trembling hand you unlock your door and open it slightly.

“Hi, I’m Wade. I was here yesterday and the day before, and before. This is how I look without the suit, ta-daaa!” he outstretches his arms widely and straightens his back, grinning at you.

That’s when you notice that his face is one huge scar. Your mouth falls agape as you stare at him, not believing your own eyes.

“Liked me better with the suit on, huh? I know, I’m a walking nightmare,” he jokes, shrugging and you blink then shake your head, laughing weakly.

“N-no, it’s okay.”

He gives you a tight smile and you bite on your lower lip, not knowing how to react now. You didn’t even imagine that he looked like that under the suit. Damn, you didn’t even give a second thought about how he might look without the suit, given that you always saw him suited up.

And if you knew… you wouldn’t be so mean. You wouldn’t just shut the door in his face, you would give him a chance to at least apologize. Regret settles in your stomach, making you slightly nauseous.

“Wade-“

“Please, don’t be mad at me for coming here. I just wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have said what I said, because I’m a stupid son of a bitch, who doesn’t know when to shut his face. Will you forgive me, Y/N?”

You nod and a small smile appears on your face.

“Yes, I will. Would you come inside and have some tea with me?”

“No, it would be difficult for you to sleep after my visit.”

“I insist. Come in,” you usher, opening the door wider and sliding aside to let Wade inside. He hesitates for a moment and you reach out and tug on the sleeve of his hoodie, dragging him inside.

Curiously, he gazes around, taking off his cap.

“It’s a nice flat. I like it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a snort as you walk to the kitchen, where the kettle whistles loudly, announcing that water is boiled.

“Or maybe you want a beer? I should have a bottle or two.”

“Only if you drink one, too. I hate drinking on my own. Makes me feel like I’m an alcoholic or something.”

“You’re funny,” you state as you stop giggling and Wade lowers his head, looking at from under his lashes, pretending to be shy.

“Oh, stop it, you…”

“Here,” you hand him a bottle of cold beer after you opened it, taking one for you, as well. You lean against the counter and take a sip, watching as Wade takes one, too.

“I, uhm. I feel that I should thank you. For saving me in that alley. It would end up much worse if you didn’t show up.”

“Naaah, don’t mention it,” he waves his hand and sits by the small kitchen table. After a moment of thinking, you sit opposite him.

“So, you’re a hero of sorts? Running around, saving damsels in distress?”

“I’m no hero, Y/N. A hero would spare the life and give the bad guy to police’s hands. I don’t do that.”

“Why?”

“’Cause there may be a chance, a very fucking tiny chance that they might get away with it.”

“So you serve justice immediately.”

“Glad that you understand.”

“How did this,” you wave your hand over Wade’s face, “happen?”

“Why do I look like that?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a long story,” he pants and grimaces.

“We have time, Wade.”

“You sure you want to hear it?”

“Yes,” you assure, nodding your head and Wade takes a breath.

“So, I was working as a mercenary before I became… like this. I met a girl, fell in love, but then just as everything was fucking well and I thought I was happy, I found out that I had a cancer. One evening, a weird dude came to a pub I was in and told me he knew that super effective way to get rid of my disease.”

“You believed him?”

“Well, not really. Not at first. But as Vanessa, my girl that is, was finding more and more ways to beat that motherfucker inside me, I went to him. I met a guy, Francis was his name but he wanted to be called Ajax.”

“Like that-“

“dishwashing liquid, yeah. Damn, that British bag of dicks promised to cure me, but he made me look like Freddy Krueger.”

“But you don’t have a cancer anymore?”

“No, Francis gave me a wonderful serum that triggered a mutation and now I am immortal. But, unfortunately, I am ugly as fuck.”

“Hence the suit.”

“Hence the suit, precisely.”

“What happened to Vanessa?”

“Francis kidnapped her, but I managed to save her and kill him. Though, she was pissed off! Fuck, I thought she’d kill me there! I apologized and she forgave me, but she said she couldn’t be with someone who fooled her for two years. I left when she was sleeping, didn’t tell her where I was going and she thought I was dead. I get it, though. I hurt her, it’s okay if she’s angry.”

“Wow. That was…” you blink and take a sip of your beer, trying to come up with a decent answer. The thing is, how can you reply to such a story?

“You don’t have to say anything. I just… well, it’s good someone’s listening.”

“You don’t have anyone to talk to?”

“I have. Blind Al will always listen to me, and since she’s blind she doesn’t flinch when he looks at me. Weasel is my best buddy, but I don’t want to burden him too much. You know, he can handle a lot, but how long can you listen to somebody’s beefing on their miserable life.”

“I can listen, Wade. In a weird way, we’re bonded, so I’m gonna be here for you, if you want me to.”

“Ohhh, you’re so sweet, Y/N! And you, if you ever want to kill anyone, I’ll gladly do it for you.”

“Thank you,” you say with a laugh and Wade grins gleefully, raising his bottle and cocking an eyebrow at you.

You promptly do the same and Wade clicks his bottle against yours, puffing out his chest.

“To the weird friendship!”

“To the weird friendship,” you repeat after him and gulp down your beer, smiling at Wade when you put the now empty bottle on the table.

“Damn, you have a deep throat!”

“Wade!” you playfully scold him, slapping his bald head and he catches your palm, holding it in both his hands.

“Forgive me, my dearest. I’m a vulgar dickhead, who’s just grateful that I met you.”

“Jesus, you’re unbelievable…” you mutter as he releases your hand, winking at you. Then, you propose a trip to the store to get more beer and some snack and Wade happily agrees. You’re surprised when you notice that it’s already late at night – you didn’t feel that so long passed as Wade and you talked.

But you’re happy that he came over tonight. You feel better having him at your side and the friendship the two of you formed is something you call a win. And, as the voice deep inside your head whispers timidly, it may blossom into something more.


End file.
